


Haunting

by Writegirl



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Last Jedi - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Brother-Sister Relationships, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Force Ghosts, Gen, Post-Star Wars: The Last Jedi, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-03-16 03:15:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13627437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writegirl/pseuds/Writegirl
Summary: What? You've never seen a Force-ghost before?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi All! New to fandom, and just really wanted to see Luke haunting the hell out of some of the characters. There will be three chapters, probably posted five days apart.

        The training room was silent except for the crackling hiss of his lightsaber.  


        Kylo Ren went from stillness to movement in an instant, his lightsaber cutting in a horizontal slash in front of him before he whirled around and swung in an upward arch. As he moved he felt his connection to the Force deepen, his frustration and rage sharpening his movements. He moved fluidly, his blade cutting through invisible enemies and redirecting blaster bolts with equal ease. The kata was not one of the traditional Jedi forms. It was something new, a form that would help him channel his rage into singular purpose, something sharp and deadly.  


        Sitting still and emptying himself was never the way he naturally connected to the Force. He discovered the secret while practicing late into the evening in the deserted training sale of the Praxeum. Between one form and the next his mind calmed, and the Force answered his call as easy as breathing. His muscles felt bathed in cool water, the burn of exertion fading like early morning dew. When he emerged from the meditation he found Skywalker watching him, folded in lotus, his Force presence calm and serene. _“Moving meditation is one of the most difficult forms of meditation to master, Ben,”_ he’d said.  


        “You know, you’d have more success with the move if you switched to your non-dominant hand. Just a suggestion, of course.”  


        Kylo Ren ignored the voice and continued trying to push himself deeper into the Force. To reach that place where the Darkness was all-encompassing and nothing but his will remained, but that wellspring of strength, of purpose, remained just out of reach. He spun, bringing his weapon down in an overhead slash, and almost stumbled as his foot caught on the metal flooring beneath him. He repositioned himself and held in his hate, his rage, trying to let that searing fire feed and center him to no avail. Not since his first days with Snoke had finding the Dark side been so difficult.  


        Intent on not responding to his unwelcome visitor, Kylo returned to the center of the room. He conjured former friends and enemies alike, imagining where their blows would fall and countering them. Inevitably, his thoughts went to his last duel. In his mind’s eye he was fighting the Pretorian guard with her at his back, their movements synchronized, almost practiced as they struck down Snoke’s men. Her Light blazing against his Darkness.  


        All too soon it was over and he was covered in sweat, chest heaving as he stood with his saber still ignited. How long before those fleeting moments in the throne room had it been since he fought with someone instead of against them? How long since he’d enjoyed the simple pleasure of crossing weapons with someone not intent on his life? Training with his knights was impossible even before his ascension; each of them sniffing after his position, hoping to catch him unawares and take his place. Now, he dared not risk it. Even the most loyal of his knights would find the temptation impossible to resist.  


        “You haven’t had anyone to spar with in a long time, have you?”  


        Kylo swung out with a growl, bisecting his watcher. There was no resistance against his blade, nothing to signify that his stroke did damage. Like before, the man didn’t even look disturbed.  


        “It didn’t work the first time, Ben.”  


        “Shut up,” Kylo ground out. He wanted to scream; wanted to take his lightsaber to the floor and walls of his training room; anything to get rid of the rage that burned hot enough to distract him but not to give him strength. The momentary release he found in destruction was too fleeting of late, and his little rebellions were no longer satisfying now that he was the one ultimately footing the bill.  


        “I did warn you.” The apparition sounded too cheerful, as if the whole thing was a good joke only he was in on.  


        _See you around, kid.  
_

        The Supreme Leader thumbed off his lightsaber and took a long look at his unwanted guest. Luke Skywalker didn’t look like the stern Master he remembered. The first time the Force ghost appeared he looked older, his hair longer and his beard unkempt, robes shabby but well taken care of. That Luke apologized again, tried to rewrite history so he came out the long-suffering hero and Kylo Ren the villain. When Ren firmly ignored him the ghost vanished, only to appear a week later looking more like the master he once trained under. Then, he did nothing but try to engage in conversation… about Snoke, about his training as a Knight of Ren, about why and how and who. When he started asking questions about Rey, Kylo destroyed his own throne room just to be rid of him. It seemed even in death, Skywalker refused to face the monster he created.  


        Now, the entity looked no older than eighteen, bright-eyed and clean shaven, dressed in what Kylo assumed were a white tunic and pants better suited to a backwater laborer on a dustbowl of a planet instead of Jedi robes. Something a moisture farmer from Tattooine might wear to ward off the blistering sun.  


        It reminded him of Rey.  


        “She still wants to help you, you know.”  


        The Supreme Leader turned on his heel, refusing to acknowledge Skywalker as he stalked to the showers. The fresher was the one place the Jedi wouldn’t trespass. Unfortunately, it wasn’t a place he could conspire to spend his every waking moment until Skywalker grew bored with his latest torments and went wherever dead Jedi Masters went when they weren’t harassing the living.  


        Once he sluiced off suds and sweat Kylo remained under the spray. In the four months since the First Order decimated the Resistance he spent most of his time organizing the new Galactic Empire from his flagship, rarely staying planet-side for more than a few hours. There were thousands of planets to integrate into the First Order, billions of citizens to be catalogued, and most of them came peacefully. The few pockets of Resistance they met were dealt with swiftly and without mercy, but for every cell they destroyed it seemed three more sprang up in its place.  


        Thinking about the Resistance led his thoughts back around to Rey. The scavenger. A girl who appeared as if by the will of the Force itself in his path. The girl he killed Snoke for. The one who was meant to be by his side, if she would only see…  


        Kylo concentrated as he dressed, probing at the small knot in his mind that was his bond with Rey. He was amazed that the construct survived Snoke’s death, sure neither of them could maintain the connection without sustaining irreparable damage. It wasn’t until he looked up on Crait and saw her staring down at him, her eyes full of pity and sorrow, that he realized the truth. The bond was never Snoke’s doing, the creature was simply the first to discover and take advantage of it. Whatever bridge was between them was anchored so deeply that their own connections to the Force sustained it, feeding it and feeding off it in an endless loop. They were linked, most likely for the rest of their lives, connected more deeply than any other two beings in the universe. _Rey._  


        The knot loosened, and suddenly he saw her. He caught a glimpse of her in a mirror, her hair loose around her shoulders. He was barely aware that she was wearing nothing but a towel when her eyes went wide in horror. _Go away!_ The connection slammed shut with a spark of pain between his eyes.  


        If she wouldn’t speak to him, he could at least let her know what he was feeling. He sent something like an apology, and the knot tightened further, until it felt like a shell of an ancari fruit: twisted, spiny, and harder than duraplast. He sent another sensation, a _well, now we’re even_ colored by the memory of her interrupting him after a training session. A white-hot burst of anger and humiliation thrummed back.  


        Kylo Ren, Supreme Leader of the First Order and Emperor of the galaxy exited the fresher with his head high and gaze stern, steadfastly ignored the glowing pain in his ass that lingered at the door to the fresher. He most certainly did not send two stormtroopers flying down the hall in front of him when words only he could hear drifted to him.  


        “Smooth, Ben. Real smooth.”

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

        “I was an idiot when I was a kid, you know that?”  


        _It doesn’t surprise me,_ Ren thought, though he didn’t acknowledge his visitor.  


        “I mean, here I was, nineteen years old with two droids, trying to save a Core world princess from the Empire. I wasn’t even allowed to go into Anchorhead by myself, and I was running off to save the galaxy.” He huffed out a laugh. “And I wanted to be an Imperial.”  


        Kylo looked up at that. Luke was still in the shape of his younger self, though this time he wore unadorned, form-fitting black tunic and trousers that made him look more like a Sith than a Jedi. The ghost stared out at the pale blue of hyperspace, expression almost distant. “You wanted to join the Empire?”  


        The Jedi smiled softly. “I was a moisture farmer on Tatooine who wanted to be a pilot. The Imperial training corps was the best way for me to do that.” He chuckled. “The Empire always had a need for good pilots, at least that’s what the recruitment videos and posters said. ‘See the Galaxy and Serve the Empire!’” He shook his head. “Full training, three meals a day and the chance to fly? What wasn’t to like?”  


        Kylo Ren stared. He thought he knew everything about Luke Skywalker. It seemed there were corners he missed. “Why didn’t you?”  


        Luke shrugged and leaned forward, his hair covering his eyes. “Uncle Owen found the application before I finished it. Deleted the whole thing and took my pad. He said I needed his permission to apply, and he wasn’t giving it, so…”  


        Owen and Beru Lars were names seldom mentioned by Skywalker. His uncle seemed to sink into thought, eyes distant.  


        “Darth Vader would have found you, if you were recruited.” If Skywalker managed to survive basic training and become a pilot without discovery, his skills would have brought him to Vader’s attention. A gift for flying seemed to be one Skywalker trait that held true.  


        “And he would have told me the truth and we would rule the galaxy together as Father and Son,” Luke deepened his voice as he spoke, his accent approximating Darth Vader’s. “Yeah, he told me that, right after he cut off my hand.”  


        _You were trying to kill him for murdering your father._ He wanted to point out that fact, but didn’t. The Jedi got him to talk with his impromptu confession. He wouldn’t be fooled again.  


        “Then, after everything, I let myself get captured by the man I’d been running from for three years.” He shook his head. “Three years running from base to base, hiding, trying to find information on the Jedi so I could finish my training, because Yoda really wasn’t a fan of my stopping and starting the way I did. I just march right up to the base on Endor and say, ‘Hi, you’ve been looking for me. Here I am, take me to the Emperor.’” He chuckled. “Like I said… idiot.”  


        Ren knew this story well: his brave uncle going to confront Darth Vader while his mother and father lead the raid on the Imperial base on Endor. The destruction of the second Death Star and the redemption of Anakin Skywalker.  


        “And instead of getting turned into space dust, I managed to help bring down an Empire and save my father from the Dark side. If you tried to sell me a holo with that storyline back on Tattooine I would have laughed you out of the market.” The Jedi’s expression darkened. “They don’t tell you in the holos that after the heroes win it doesn’t stop. Killing the Emperor sparked a civil war that lasted almost a decade. Billions died on both sides.” His voice was soft, filled with memory and pain. “And you’re the hero, you’re supposed to save the day, and you can’t. But you keep trying because _that’s what you do.”_  


        Ren could remember some of it. He was a child when the civil war raged, barely eight when it finally ended with the formation of the New Republic, while what remained of the Empire slunk into Wild Space and eventually became the First Order. Most of his memories centered around his time as an apprentice, seeing the death and destruction wrought by the New Republic’s failures as he and his master waded from crisis to crisis. With every warring planet and enslaved child his discontent grew. How could his master not see the truth? The New Republic was a failure. Democracy may have worked centuries ago, but in the last years of the Republic the Senate was hopelessly deadlocked. Important legislation languished in committees while lesser bills with wealthy backers like the banking guilds and Trade Federation were pushed through and the same was happening in the New Republic.  


        “I wasn’t ready for you, Ben.”  


        Kylo looked up at that. His former master was staring at him intently, the Force gathered around him like storm clouds.  


        “I wasn’t ready,” Skywalker repeated. “I wasn’t ready for your power. I thought I could nurture your light and banish the Darkness, and for that I am truly sorry.”  


        _Shut up, shut up, shut up…_ “What made you think you were ready for anyone’s darkness?” Kylo asked flippantly.  


        Skywalker huffed a small laugh before he started to fade away. “Because I had a lot of experience with my own.”


	2. Chapter 2

          Leia stared out the small window of her quarters, the grass just beyond level with the sill and whipping in the wind as clouds heavy with rain obscured the closest peaks. Five minutes before she felt the bass rumble of thousands of nerfs as they traveled over the plain above. It was a spectacular sight, she imagined; a dark sea heaving against the greenery in patterns only they understood.  


          As far as bases went, she'd stayed in worse. Dosuun was a planet so deep in Wild Space it was all but forgotten, too far from any of the hyperspace lanes for even accidental visitors, with no real natural resources aside from beautiful views. Its isolation was both a blessing and a curse; it afforded them protection from the First Order patrols that were even now scouring the midrim while making it difficult to send or receive any transmissions from the planet itself. The only thing that could attract travelers were the large nerf herds that roamed the planet's grasslands.  


          At the very least her people wouldn't starve while they rebuilt.  


          The general turned away from the view with a silent sigh. The facility was a remnant of the Empire; tucked in a hollowed-out cliff-face that served as a base for only a few months before it was abandoned. The only signs of the base truly visible were the wide hanger doors halfway up the mountainside, and even they were textured to appear as natural rock formations. Small mounds dotted the plain leading to the cliffs, irregular roundels that mimicked the natural topography until you came in close enough to see the narrow windows half-hidden by vegetation. It was the perfect hiding place for the handful of Resistance fighters that survived Crait, even if the facility felt too empty with so few people occupying it. She missed the familiar, overpacked corridors of the D'Qar base, a place that started to feel something like a home.  


          Thinking of home brought up thoughts of Alderaan lost so long ago. She could barely remember how it felt to watch white-winged shara birds as they circled the spires of the palace, their arrival heralding spring in Aldera. The warmth that chased away the chill of winter even in the high passes. How Toniray tasted on a hot summer afternoon spent lounging with her mother on the rare occasions they had no other engagements. The feel of her father's arms when he hugged her after returning from the Senate. Her memories of her childhood home and her life before the Death Star's horrors grew dimmer with every beat of her heart.  


          Leia twisted the base of her ring using the Force, turning it minutely this way and that until there was a small click, and one of the carved blue stones slid into her palm before she dropped it into a small holo-projector. The holo image was of her family in profile. Han tossed Ben into the air, and she could almost hear her son's high-pitched cries of 'higher! Higher!' A younger version of her leaned into Han's back, smiling at the antics of her two men while Luke covered one of his ever-present smiles on their other side. Chewie silently berated them that someone was trying to take their picture, so it was only polite that they all at least turn around. After ten seconds, they all settled: Ben on Han's shoulders, Luke and Leia on either side of him while Chewie dwarfed them all. Even sitting on his father's shoulders, Ben barely came to the Wookie's chin.  


          The general didn't look up when she felt another presence in her room. "I'm not talking to you."  


          "I don't blame you."  


          The short clip ended, moved on to one of Luke and Ben. Her brother floated several blocks in the air in front of her son, who laughed brightly at the colorful display. A small hand reached out and one of the blocks closest to him separated from the group and shakily floated towards Ben before it fell. It lasted less than three seconds, but Luke's smile was brilliant as a starburst at the end. The images continued to cycle: Chewie holding an infant Ben up to the sun, his legs kicking in delight. A much younger Leia sitting on Han's lap in the mess of the Falcon, both looking at the other like they were the last being in the universe. It was taken shortly before her birthday on their way to Chandrila with Luke and Chewie, one night when neither of them was paying attention, too wrapped up in each other to care. The Han in the image smiled at her younger self, and his thumb traced the curve of her jaw before she leaned forward to kiss him.  


          "I am sorry about Han."  


          Leia tapped the holo device and the images vanished.  


          "Chewie told you how he died?" she asked, because her brother was too close, after too long, to not talk to him. That didn't mean she had to look at him.  


          Sadness echoed in the Force around her, and her own rose to greet it.  


          "Rey told me what happened at the school," she said carefully. Her temper flared at the thought of Luke ever considering hurting her son, but the anger was short-lived and left nothing but ash in its wake. She could see it, she could even understand it: Luke trying to save everyone, weighing the life of one boy against the whole galaxy and finding at the last moment that he couldn't do what he thought he had to. Couldn't kill his nephew in cold blood for things he hadn't done yet to prevent a possible future.  


          Still, she wished he came to the realization before he lit his damn lightsaber.  


          Leia steeled herself before turning to face her brother's ghost. He didn't look like the Jedi Master that visited her on Crait. He looked older, his hair long and pale despite the bluish light that emanated from him, his face more lined. "I felt it when Han died." She lifted her hand to her chest where a hollow, endless ache took up residence and closed her eyes. "I felt him fade away and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't hold on to him."  


          It hurt, admitting that out loud; the words shards of kyber that tore a path from her lungs to her mouth. Her parents, her home, her son, her brother, her husband… everything she tried to hold on to slipped through her fingers. Before, she could content herself knowing that Han and Luke were alive, somewhere. It didn't matter how far away they were so long as they were out there. Even Ben… no matter what he was doing, what darkness he swam in, there was a comfort in knowing her son was alive even as her heart fractured.  


          A soft pressure settled on her shoulders, the sensation barely there.  


          "He's at peace, Leia."  


          "Until I join him," she let out a chuckle. Peaceful was the last word anyone would use to describe their marriage, and she'd rip the universe asunder if it tried to keep them apart. "It will be soon, I think."  


          Green-grey lightning flashed outside, throwing sharp shadows on the walls as the storm broke outside. _Dramatics,_ Leia thought wryly.  


          Luke's face fell. "I'm so sorry."  


          "Don't be," she said with forced cheer. Getting spaced had taken years off her life, and she felt herself growing weaker every day. The stairs just a hair harder to manage, the late hours taking a toll they never had before. "I just hope I can hang on long enough to get the Resistance back on its feet."  


          Her brother smiled warmly at that, and she felt the echo of it wrap around her like a well-loved blanket. "That's my Leia."  


          The general rolled her eyes. "So, since you're here and not floating in the Force, I'll assume you're doing something important." For days now, she thought she felt him, there and gone in an instant.  


          "I'm trying," Luke smiled.  


          "No rest for the wicked."  


          "None at all."  


          She sobered. "How is Ben?"  


          Luke looked away. "Conflicted. Alone. Trying to find his place in the galaxy."  


          "So, nothing's changed?" Tears teased the corners of her eyes and she let them fall.  


          "Everything's changed," Luke soothed. "I told you, Leia… he's not gone. The First Order under his leadership is actually better than the New Republic in some things if you can believe it."  


          "I do." The small information gathering missions she'd sent out had a lot to say about the new Supreme Leader, including his instituting a Galactic Standard for Education and Law and the complete abolition of slavery in the territories he controlled. He was even starting rebuilding projects on planets devastated by the conflict. She would applaud him for it if she didn't know the methods he used on those who refused to conform. "Good to know he listened to more than our arguments." She let out a small, wet chuckle.  


          Luke turned his head as if listening to something, and Leia felt a faint tremor in the force.  


          "Duty calls?"  


          Her brother shrugged his shoulder. "I'll be back when I can."  


          "Hard to believe you have a schedule to keep even after death."  


          Luke grinned. "You have no idea."


	3. Chapter 3

            _After the darkness_

_Shines through the light._

_The difference, they say,_

_Is only made-_

        “Ugh…” 

        Rey closed the book slowly, careful of its age even though she wanted to pick it up and throw it against the nearest wall. She hoped the texts she took from Ach-To would contain information on how to control her abilities, maybe something on how to keep Kylo Ren from popping up at odd times. Instead, they were full of flowery poetry and references to other texts that likely no longer existed. The pages with diagrams of swordplay were so faded the figures were barely visible, the words just as faint. 

        _Too much to hope for something truly useful, like how to sever this stupid bond,_ she thought. Only one of the books contained a reference to Force bonds, and the praise and awe it heaped on something that was slowly driving her crazy made her want to scream. 

        In the weeks since Crait, Rey spent every hour not devoted to helping the Resistance regain its strength and keeping the new Supreme Leader out of her head deciphering Master Skywalker’s texts. When she opened them on the Millennium Falcon she was disheartened to see they were in a language she couldn’t understand but whose symbols were vaguely familiar. Leia looked at a few pages before handing them off to her protocol droid, who identified the language as an archaic form of High Aurebesh and offered to translate them. 

        _“No, thanks,”_ Rey said after a moment. _“I think I should do it myself.”_ She couldn’t say where the sensation came from, but it felt right. 

        Leia just raised an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth quirking up slightly. _“You know High Aurebesh?”_

        _“No…”_ Rey’s eyes went to the protocol droid where he'd retreated with BB-8 and R2-D2. The three were never far apart during downtime. _“I guess he’ll have to teach me.”_

        That was how she ended up spending hours alone with C3-PO, Human-Cyborg Relations. Rey thanked the Force that she always had a mind for languages because she wanted to dismantle the droid for scrap before the first week was out. It only made her more determined to learn the language as quickly as she could. 

        It took nearly three months for Threepio to declare her “sufficient, if barely” in the language. Three months of studying until she could see the symbols burning behind her eyelids, hear its lilting syllables in her sleep spoken in Threepio's precise tones before she dared open the books and try to learn. All of that, and she could find nothing to help her control or end her connection to Kylo Ren. 

        As if her thoughts summoned him, she felt their bond shiver like an animal touched by a careful hand. She projected _go away_ as loudly as she could, imagining her end of their connection going stony and cold. The Force… shuddered… like something was prying at her, forcing the connection to remain open. 

        “Go away!” she hissed into the pale light of her room, but it didn’t work. The bond sprang open with the familiar rush of white noise and quiet. 

        Kylo Ren stood in front of her, eyes focused as if listening to someone before dismissing them with a curt wave of his hand. He looked much the same as the last time she saw him; dressed head to toe in unrelieved black, tall and imposing. The smell of plasteel and recycled air wrinkled her nose as the temperature fell enough to make gooseflesh spring out on her arms. She fought the urge to warp the blanket pooled at her back around her shoulders, determined to pretend he wasn’t there. She couldn’t see where he was, but she could feel it. 

        _When it started, there wasn’t even that,_ the thought filled her with horror. How much stronger was the connection going to get? How soon until she was a threat to the Resistance? “I don’t want to talk to you.” 

        Ren glanced at her, something soft and aching in his eyes that she didn’t want to think about before his expression hardened and he turned away. “Leave me,” he ordered. 

        It only took seconds for whoever was still with him to leave. His shoulders relaxed, his head falling forward slightly. “I still can’t see your surroundings,” he told her. “Can you see mine?” 

        Rey stood. “No.” 

        Her movement drew his eye. “There’s something, though,” he mused. “Plastcrete and moisture and stone. Another abandoned base?” 

        Rey picked up her books and shoved them into her small footlocker as gently as she could, careful to keep her body turned away from him. He'd felt Luke during their first conversation on Ach-To; she didn't know how far that awareness extended and Skywalker's manuscripts had their own subtle Force presence. She didn’t want him to know she had information about the Force. Let him guess at her abilities until the next time they crossed sabers. 

        “How have you been?” 

        “As if you care.” She slammed the footlocker closed. 

        A burst of hot anger not her own sang through her. “Of course, I care!” The words were bitten off, his shoulders hunched in anger before he visibly forced himself to calm down. “I wasn’t the one who left her _bondmate_ unconscious on a ship breaking apart.” 

        Her own anger rose to meet his. “No.” She stalked towards him until she was just out of arm’s reach. “You’re the one who tried to shoot me out of the sky on Crait.” 

        Kylo blinked as his anger subsided. “I didn’t know you were on the Falcon.” 

        “But you knew I’d return to the Resistance.” 

        Another sensation crept through the bond, so subtle she almost missed it. A careful, quiet sense of regret, there and gone the moment she realized what it was. 

        “I never wanted to hurt you,” Kylo said with quiet sincerity. “I planned to lead the assault specifically to keep you from getting hurt.” 

        Rey shook her head, fighting down the small burst of joy his words gave. “You should have been with me.” _You still can be._ She tightened her shields, trying to keep the thought from flitting across their bond. It was a foolish thought, fostered by how she felt when they were connected. The sensation of being the only two beings in the galaxy. In the universe. Of being connected to someone. Of never being alone again. 

        Amusement lightened his eyes and he took a step towards her. “I told you, Rey. I feel it, too.” 

        She ignored his words. Whatever they felt… whatever she felt… was irrelevant. She shifted focus, wanting to end that train of thought. “The connection is lasting longer,” she said slowly. 

        “Because the bond is growing stronger. If the ancient texts are to be believed the connection can’t be broken.” He sounded entirely too pleased with that. “It will only grow deeper still. It’s only a matter of time before I find you, Rey. You and your _Resistance._ ” He spit the last word, stalking towards her. “Tell me where you are.” 

        She backed away, eyes focused on the wall behind him. “I’m not telling you anything.” 

        “But you want to,” the words were thoughtful. “I can feel it.” 

        Rey's eyes jumped to his. He was watching her, gaze assessing. Hopeful. “What I want doesn’t matter!” 

        “It does to me.” 

        She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. She was tired from trying to decipher Skywalker’s manuscripts, tired of the bond… just tired. “Go away, Ben.” 

        A sensation burst along the bond, one she had trouble recognizing. Her eyes flew open and went to his. He was staring at her, a strange melancholy on his face. 

        “You still think of me as Ben,” he said softly. 

        The connection broke. 

        Rey huffed a sigh as she opened her footlocker and retrieved the texts, spreading them on the plastcrete floor in a semi-circle in front of her. There was no way of knowing which she should even read first. She thought about reaching out with the Force, as Luke showed her on Ach-To, but decided against it. Without the master to guide her, she wasn’t willing to risk it. She didn’t know if Kylo would be able to track her through it, or if she’d open the bond again by accident. “This is pointless,” she muttered under her breath. 

        “That little green troll.” 

        “Gah!” Rey rolled away from the voice behind her and her staff flew into her hands. She whirled, prepared to deal with the intruder… 

        And stared. 

        “What? You’ve never seen a Force ghost before?” 

        She didn’t lower her staff, the butt end aimed at his throat. “You’re dead,” she whispered. 

        “And you’re not.” 

        Rey felt a frisson of fear. On Jakku, there were legends of sand demons that appeared to travelers as someone they loved and led them astray; luring them into the sinking fields or confusing them to the point they were hopelessly lost among the dunes. Of the ghosts of long-dead scavengers haunting the wrecks where they died and bedeviling the living. Once, when she was still small, she swore she saw one standing on the flats just beyond the lights of Niima Station: a creature of swirling sand and fire that was there and gone in the blink of her eyes. 

        The Luke Skywalker in front of her glowed a soft blue that seemed to fade even as she watched, his body growing more solid until he looked almost normal. He wore the white robes she remembered from their first meeting, though the cloth looked of a finer weave. She extended her staff slowly until it passed cleanly through his upper chest. 

        He looked down at the staff, then back to her with a raised eyebrow. “Satisfied?” 

        Rey let her staff fall to her side guiltily, then frowned in confusion. “Wait. Who is a little green troll?” 

        Luke rolled his eyes. “If you’d met, you wouldn’t have to ask. He’s like me.” 

        “A Jedi?” 

        “Dead.” He shrugged. “And a Jedi Master.” 

        Rey swallowed. Force powers, bonds that stretched across the stars, and now ghosts? “How many are there?” 

        “You know, I never thought to ask,” he sounded bemused. “At least three of us, if Obi-Wan ever shows back up.” 

        Obi-Wan… she knew the name. The thought sparked a memory of a few weeks past, of Leia detailing how she met her brother. “The one who trained you?” 

        “For a time.” He gestured to the books. “You took them.” 

        Rey’s shoulders stiffened. “It’s not like you were using them, and I need to learn. You must have read them a million times, anyway.” 

        Luke’s expression went rueful. “Not exactly.” 

        “It’s not like they contain anything useful.” She gestured to the book she’d stopped reading earlier. “What is ‘refined Jedi sight?’ anyway? Who says whether someone has it?” Hope sparked in her chest. “You were a Jedi; did they ever make sense to you?” 

        The Force-ghost settled on her bunk. It was odd, to see him sit without so much as wrinkling the top sheet. “I had those texts for years and I never figured that out.” 

        The spark sputtered and died. “Can you help me learn more about the Force, at least?” Ben was right; she did need a teacher, and her brief lessons with the old master weren’t nearly enough. 

        He looked surprised. “After how you left, I didn’t think you’d want me to.” 

        Rey looked away. She’d let her temper get the better of her. “Why did you let me win?” 

        Luke’s expression turned thoughtful. “You needed to see what you were capable of, given the right circumstances. The right motivations.” 

        “I could have hurt you.” 

        He smiled warmly. “You really think so?” 

        “I wanted to hurt you,” she admitted. 

        “You were angry, confused, unsure of everything, and yet you refused to strike a killing blow.” 

        Rey stiffened. “I’m not a murderer!” 

        “And you needed to know that. Even with every instinct screaming at you to finish me. Even with the Dark Side clinging to you like oil, there was Light, and the Light won.” Luke looked away, the pain that crept into his eyed fading, replaced by an emotion she couldn’t name. “I wish you’d told me about the bond.” 

        Rey felt her stomach drop. “I didn’t know how.” What was she supposed to do? Walk up to the man who was barely civil and just warming up to the idea of training her and inform him that his nephew would be stopping in sporadically via a connection neither of them understood? That would have gone well. “It doesn’t matter, anyway.” 

        “It does.” Luke gave a slight nod towards her chest. “The bond is still there, and it’s growing stronger.” 

        _No no no,_ she ignored the truth of his words. “He just… caught me by surprise today. I didn’t expect him to press. Next time, I’ll be ready. I can keep him out.” 

        “For now.” His gaze was pointed. “Ben has too much of his father in him, and his grandfather. He doesn’t know how to stop going after something he wants.” 

        Heat blossomed in her stomach and raced up her neck, staining her cheeks. “I’m not something he can have,” she said fiercely, even as part of her whispered _you are._ “He has a lot in common with you, too.” 

        Luke’s smile was sad. “Nothing he’d admit to.” 

        “He wants the Jedi to end,” she said quickly. “But not just the Jedi. He wanted to end the Sith.” _It’s time to let old things die,_ he’d said it with such conviction. _Snoke, Skywalker. The Sith, the Jedi, the Rebels... Let it all die._ “He did end the Sith. He killed Snoke, not me. He…he thinks he’s doing what’s right.” The words thrummed in the Force, echoing truth. 

        “The worst evils in the galaxy are done by those who think they are doing what’s right,” the old master said slowly. “Darth Vader thought he was doing what was right, too, Rey. And it cost the galaxy so much. It cost him everything.” 

        “But you saved him!” Leia was certain on that one thing. It was what gave her hope that her son could be saved. 

        “He saved himself,” Luke corrected gently. “I just gave him a reason to want to.” 

        Rey blinked. 

        “Ben’s still in there, Rey. However deeply he’s buried himself, the boy I trained, my nephew, is still there.” 

        She leaned forward. “How do I reach him?” 

        Luke smiled, eyes alight with something entirely too close to mischief. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed ^_^


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